


Lines

by tsuristyle



Category: SMAP
Genre: Five perfect men in one bed, M/M, Short Shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8936971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuristyle/pseuds/tsuristyle
Summary: Some literal, some metaphorical. Very short pieces for each pairing, and a little SMAPxSMAP.(Written July 2013.)





	

1\. Shingo's hands linger on the lines between fiction and reality, where no one can tell the difference, not even them. But that's okay, because Tsuyoshi doesn't mind confusing acting and reality-- he doesn't care who Shingo is touching as long as it's him.  
  
  
2\. Shingo finds a page of old drawings in a sketchbook, years later. They don't look like Goro at all, the lines are all wrong, or maybe what he saw then isn't what was really there. He's filled with the sudden urge to erase them, every last line, until it's nothing but a blank page again, but by the time he finds an eraser the feeling has passed. They're just drawings, after all.  
  
  
3\. Nakai can tell his vision is going bad when he looks at Kimura and the lines of his face are fuzzy. He has to take a step closer to see Kimura clearly, even if it's only for a brief glance across the room.  
  
You should get glasses, Kimura tells him when he catches him at it. It'll just keep getting worse, and then what? But Nakai just smiles and shifts a little closer, and-- there-- Kimura comes into focus again.  
  
  
4\. Nakai writes the Mako-chan script over and over again, erasing and rewriting the lines until they're a frustrated dark blur on the page. He can make Tsuyoshi say any words he wants but they have to be the _right_ ones, even if they'll never be the ones he really wants to hear.  
  
  
5\. Tsuyoshi doesn't remember the bus lulling him to sleep but when he wakes up he's slumped against Kimura, his cheek pressing into the older man's shoulder. It leaves faint lines on his face for the rest of the day, but when they fade Kimura frowns at him like he's looking for them so Tsuyoshi pretends to fall asleep on his shoulder on the way home, too.  
  
  
6\. Sometimes when they're drinking Nakai will take Shingo's hand and trace the lines of his palm, making up predictions about his future like an amateur palm reader. Every line will mean something terrible at first; then, as the ice melts in his glass, his predictions soften and become promises, only half-serious but maybe only to hide how much he means them. Shingo will turn Nakai's hand over, then, and press the lines of their palms together, because whatever they might mean, it's shared between both of them, and that's the only prediction he really cares about.  
  
  
7\. Goro can see the lines forming at the corners of Kimura's eyes, the ones that will be hidden with makeup until they're too old to be young and will suddenly become marks of distinction instead of decline-- but Goro knows better. They're beautiful, because Kimura is beautiful, Kimura will always be beautiful.  
  
That's because you're in love with me, Kimura says, his eyes slipping to Goro's reflection in the mirror, but Goro thinks that only proves his point, because why would he ever stop being in love with Kimura?  
  
  
8\. There's a crack in the mirror. The staff apologized and promised to have it fixed soon, but it's still _there_ , slicing a jagged line between Goro and where Tsuyoshi usually sits, where Tsuyoshi would be if he hadn't been so stupid. It's only for a month, he reminds himself, but when he looks in the mirror it feels like half the world is missing.  
  
  
9\. The first time Shingo calls him _Takuya_ he's just joking around, but Kimura looks at him so suddenly that Shingo wonders if he's crossed a line. It's only when he says it again, tangled between the sheets and his bandmate's kisses, that he realizes that it's a line Kimura _wanted_ him to cross.  
  
  
10\. It won't work, Nakai tells him, and his words fall between them like a line drawn on the floor; this is me, that is you.  
  
Goro's had enough of that bullshit. How do you know, he says, and when he reaches out it's like drawing a line of his own, or maybe it's a line that was already there, not dividing but stretching between them from one to the other. You don't, and I don't either. Wouldn't you rather find out?  
  
  
11\. They tumble back onto the bed together, exhausted, barely fitting unless they tangle and overlap, Kimura curling around Nakai resting his hand on Tsuyoshi lying half on top of Shingo sliding his arm around Goro reaching across to slip his fingers into Kimura's. It should be uncomfortable, but there's no space left for discomfort, like a puzzle where all the pieces fit so well together that you can't tell where the lines are anymore. Tomorrow it'll be broken down into pieces again, and put away for another day, but right now, in this moment, it's perfect and whole, and it's beautiful.


End file.
